I almost gave up on you.
Yes, you… faithful blog reader.
All this interest in posting stories that you can’t post on your on blog and then…
8 comments.
And one was mine.
I almost scrapped the idea… and then I had a few people ask about it.
So, let’s do this again… Mmk?
And I want your stories!
They don’t have to be HILARIOUS
or AMAZING
or CRAZY.
They just have to be {un}bloggable.
I’m giving you a place to get it out.
Put it on “paper.”
And know that you’re not alone when you can’t blog about everything that happens to you.
To start?
I’m telling you my moment.
Yes, here.
Not in the comments.
Not anonymously.
—
The other day I was putting sunscreen on Jack.
I was wearing a bathing suit and a cover up.
I was bending down (because he’s short).
And I see his eyes traveling.
So I pulled my cover up as high as it would go and pretended nothing happened.
And do you know what he said?
Of course you don’t.
We never know what he’ll say.
He said,
Mom, I already know what they look like.
Because sometimes I take that submarine thing. You know, the periscope?
And I spy on you!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
—
Ahem.
So, here are the directions (if you need them):
1. You may or may not want to leave your name. If you do, just comment and us your story. I say story loosely. I have a feeling that some of you didn’t comment last time because you didn’t think your stories were worthy.
2. If you choose to comment anonymously, follow this:
Name: {make up a name. use mine. or your mother’s. or my mother’s!}
E-mail: leave your e-mail if you want me to reply to your comment.
don’t leave your e-mail if you don’t want me to reply to your comment.
Blog address: If you leave an address, people will click onto your blog, which will make you {un}anonymous.
3. If this stresses you out, e-mail me your comment. I’ll post it for you.
4. If you have ANY questions, e-mail me.
Oh, and I was kidding about giving up on you :)
Ready?
Set?
GO!
{ 15 comments… read them below or add one }
There was this one time that I was texting with this lady that I had never met and I told her about how I prostitute myself to my husband. I trade sexual favors (to my husband) for things I want, like Burger King.
.-= Michelle´s last blog ..Earth Day…Ok =-.
Jack, (my Jack, not yours) while getting ready for swim lessons is getting frustraited and exclaims “Dammit” Hubby and I look up and say, “Hey buddy, we don’t say that word.” He replies, “But DaddyMomma (yes one word) I just say dammit because I need a 3rd arm to put on my goggles”
We arrived home last month from the hospital to find out they were denying me coverage under my husband’s insurance for “failure to prove that I’m his spouse”
WHAT?
So, thinking the kids were downstairs I said, “this is so fuckin’ lame.”
Later that night, my son tells me that because I said fuckin, the Easter bunny won’t bring me a basket.
My SIL, who’s NUTS BTW is anti-church… I think they call it athiest. While Joe’s rents are hard core Catholic. Next month they will celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary and all they want to do is have a blessing at mass and go to dinner after… well Crazy (as I prefer to call her) is insistent on having it at her house 25 min away and pot lucking the whole thing. So, we all attend 5 pm mass and afterward everyone chats up Joe’s rents and we leave, drive the Crazy’s house and now were feeding kids that are 1,2,3,4,5 (and some older ones) at 7 or later p.m. plus keeping food warm that whole time GREAT. Can’t we just not be cheap and order the food or God forbid, go to an actual resturant. Maybe I’m a jerk.
Um… order food. And put your foot down about it.
A story of my friend’s:
While sitting in the hot tub during a recent family reunion, 4-year-old Lydia turned to her uncle and stated, “Uncle Gary, little kids must not like you very much.”
“Well now, Lydia, why do you say that?”
“You’ve got hair all over your nursers.”
Ok, well maybe that’s totally bloggable…
.-= Eileen´s last blog ..Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever. =-.
So, I’ve got this friend, bit of a blog snob…she’s actually disappointed with 8 comments. :D
.-= anon´s last blog ..Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever. =-.
Funny story from last week:
When my hubbie came home from work, I said hello and gave him a kiss.
My 2-year-old daughter turned to him and said, “Hi sexy.”
Oops…
.-= Eileen´s last blog ..Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever. =-.
My mother in law came over last week and said “next time I come over I think we should paint, don’t you?” well yes, just about every day for the past three years. I have THREE five year olds. I also think I should be able to sleep eight hours and shower without answering 40 questions, but guess what? I’m stinky and tired and don’t have the energy to paint the walls AGAIN. I will pay someone to do it when we move or will do it myself when they move. Or have at it, I’ll be getting my toes done.
No real “stories” but just a list of things I am not proud of… and wouldn’t blog about…
Sometimes I sit on the computer when I should be playing with my kids.
I don’t hate that my oldest loves tv.
I kinda want what I want, when I want it. But it really bothers me when other people are like that.
I kinda wish people catered to me a little more than they do. I mean, seriously?!? Shouldn’t it be about me?
I really covet things I can’t have. Material things. Emotional things. Anything.
I do not have a lot of patience. In fact, I’m very impatient. I *think* I hide that well. ish.
Um… I do those things, too. I bet everyone who commented here does!
Last Mother’s Day was a little bit of a crazy day for us, the entire family had been sick for awhile and errands had gone unfinished so that Sunday we spent the day running all around town. By the time we got home and put the kids to bed it was almost 9pm. My sweet husband drew me a bubble bath and then told me he was going to take the dog on a walk. About 30 minutes later I hear the front doorbell ringing – so thinking that my tired husband left and forgot his house keys and was locked outside I quickly threw on a tiny bath towel and ran to the door. When I threw it open I was standing, dripping wet and barely decent, in front of my next door neighbor’s mother… who was returning a tool that she had borrowed from my husband as he left to take the dog on the walk. I was mortified, I don’t even remember what I said – I think I stammered something about thinking she was my husband, that I never answer the door in my towel etc etc. Thankfully if she was as embarassed as I was, she hid it well.
.-= Nicki´s last blog ..The Misadventures of P.B. Winterbottom =-.
I know I’m late, but I’m leaving my comment anyways. I stepped away from the computer all weekend, and really enjoyed it. Which is also why my comment is late.
.-= kelly hoosier´s last blog ..Running =-.
Everytime I hear someone say they are an athiest, I want to respond, “For your sake, you better hope you’re right!” Along with, “So you think we came from apes. Where do you think the ape came from?” because seriously, I doubt they’d have an answer.
Our neighbors across the street pull a movie screen out in their backyard on Friday nights for all the kiddies in the neighborhood. We’re rather new to the neighborhood so in order to be liked my husband and I brought along a cooler full of beer for the moms and dads. When we got there my 3yo walked in the backyard and exclaimed, “WE BROUGHT BREWDOGS!!”
.-= Jenny´s last blog ..Seven =-.